


Interlude

by Cipher_Fine



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Chiss, Comfort No Hurt, F/M, Hoth, Kissing, Plans For The Future, Relationship of Convenience, Romance, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 07:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17096804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cipher_Fine/pseuds/Cipher_Fine
Summary: The life of a Cipher Agent is rife with danger, isolation and false connections...all the more reason to revel in rare times of respite when they come. For Cipher Nine, an assignment on the planet of Hoth brings unexpected (and welcome) memories of her home, and an intimate connection with one of her own people in the most unlikely of places. Originally posted a few months back, and now under my new pseud, this time with edits.





	Interlude

In the life of an Imperial Cipher Agent, sanctuary and respite often came in the strangest ways.

Cipher Nine had weathered a busy few weeks on the planet Hoth--or, as Ensign Temple had cheerfully called it, The Deep Freeze. Nine found the other woman’s assessment correct and rather amusing after a fashion. This was not the place sane Imperial officers wanted to be stationed--and why a good many who were posted here were proving to be not entirely standard-issue. Nine’s current mission target, Admiral Davos, took madness to new levels.

Which was what brought her here to Zero Station in the first place, if through the circuitous route of searching for a very specific salvage item for Ardun Kothe's team. The well-hidden, top-secret Chiss Expansionary Defense Force outpost was the primary reason Nine was not displeased to be on so desolate a planet undergoing such a peculiar assignment. That and finding herself away from Hunter, mostly in control of her own mind for a short time…

“So, is it a little like being home?” Temple had asked, not able to hide a genuine curiosity that Nine was beginning to find almost endearing.

“More than anywhere I’ve been in a long time,” the agent had replied, allowing a rare smile to flicker over her normally (and purposely) expressionless face.

Today Cipher Nine found herself between mission tasks, unsure what to do with herself. She stood next to Vector in the entryway of the bunker, trying to decide if she wanted to venture out for recon or get in some dreaded but much needed paperwork time.

“We have never seen such a place as this, Agent, though I think that is not the case for you,” Vector observed mildly. He tilted his head as he looked at her in that openly appraising way of his before going back to his study of the environs, somehow looking immaculate even bundled in a thickly-padded coat that swallowed his lean frame. Vector seemed content to continue his Vectorish silent musings so Nine took a moment to watch snow whirl and undulate over the entryway floor, driven by forced air that never seemed as warm as it should.

Not that she minded the cold. On the contrary, the frozen air--clean smelling and bracing--reminded her of Csilla. Of home. The people stationed in the remote outpost added all the more to what was not really nostalgia so much as...ease. Familiarity. The Chiss Expansionary Defense Force soldiers, analysts and operatives Cipher Nine encountered were a more welcome sight than she realized they could be.

_Welcome sounds, too--how long since I’ve heard a word in Cheunh that I didn’t say myself?_

Right on cue, the Chiss woman minding the entryway command station murmured a set of coordinates in Cheunh into her headset, calm alto voice pleasing to Nine.

_There is another voice here that pleases me far more than it should...one I wish I did not notice as I do._

As if sensing her thoughts, the man she’d been trying not to think about strode into the foyer, white cape swirling behind him like the very snow at their feet.

Vector glanced at his chrono and smiled faintly. “Excuse us, Agent. I just recalled that Ensign Temple has kindly offered us a particularly fine spiced tea and we do not wish to be rude and late.” Vector bowed his head by way of farewell, sparing another nod for the tall Chiss man who approached her with his long, confident stride.

“Agent, I trust the day finds you well?” Aristocra Saganu greeted her, polite as always but with that cleverly delivered edge of warmth that made anyone lucky enough to garner his polite attentions feel noticed, even important. Nine fought away a frisson of—

_Of what? Nothing I should be feeling, certainly…_

“Quite, thank you,” Nine found herself replying smoothly. “And you?”

“I am. I do, however, have some mission parameters you will want to review before you move forward with your own operational planning. I have time now if you would join me in my secure conference area.” He spread his strong, wide-palmed hands in a polite gesture of inquiry. Nine had noticed in the past how, despite his immaculate grooming and regal bearing, Saganu’s hands were the calloused, strong hands of a warrior.

“No rest for the wicked?” She allowed herself a rueful grin.

“Or for the qualified, assigned, and willing,” Saganu said with the faintest hint of a smile. How even such a small expression could transform his austere features was something that Cipher Nine found herself more than a little impressed by. Not that she was inclined, at the moment, to show it.

“I’m at your disposal, Aristocra. Show the way.”

He nodded briskly, and she followed him deep into the center of the compound, sorting her thoughts along the way. Thoughts more than a little cluttered by the image of Saganu’s wide shoulders, the power and purpose in the way he walked, how the humming overhead lights shone on his thick, dark blue hair. Nine had, in her line of work, engaged with many wildly attractive people of many races but she had never lost her appreciation for the controlled, deliberate strength Chiss men so uniquely possessed.

Aristocra Saganu, she was finding out, was the poster model for these very traits. He was stunning.

“Here we are,” he interrupted her guilty thoughts. When he paused to turn and look at her, waving her toward a nearly hidden door with only a single access panel, Cipher Nine had to force herself to call on her training and meet his gaze dispassionately.

To not show how thoroughly she approved of the set of his strong jaw, or of how full and soft his lips were when quirked in that wry little half smile that always felt like it existed just for her.

“One moment,” he said and set to entering a complex code into the panel. Nine turned away out of politeness, but could not help listening, observing in case she should ever need to force access to this room.

_Think about the mission, about your place in this operation and not about how he smells like clean snowy air and something undefinably male._

She could not risk vulnerability in any form and to be in the company of a Chiss Aristocra, even so far from Csilla, warranted more than the usual amount of care and decorum. She was loyal to the Empire. Nine had proven herself to be a remarkably effective and capable agent, and rightly so after her tenure in the Chiss Secret Police—but she was ever most in service to the Ascendancy. Serving Aristocra Saganu in these missions reflected admirably upon her sense of duty to her people, and gave her no small amount of pride.

“Please, agent, come in and make yourself at ease.”

Nine stepped through the security door, a little surprised at how welcoming the Aristocra’s personal offices were while, at the same time, not at all surprised by the man’s particular tastes. Sturdy but comfortable dark wood chairs flanked a glossy desk, and though the walls were covered in banks of data screens and tactical maps, blue plush carpeting  and warmly glowing lamps gave the space an understated comfort.

“Here is fine?” Nine asked, gesturing to one of the chairs.

“Of course. I believe you prefer no sweetener in your spiced tea?” His voice seemed more velveted than before, or perhaps it was simply the way sound was buried in the soft carpet or pillowy cushions on the chairs.

“You have the right of it, Aristocra. I’m flattered you remember such a thing.” Nine kept her tone light, but she felt a tension in her bearing she had not carried before. He was putting her off her game, just a little. Dangerous. Impressive…

He moved close, placing a data pad onto the table in front of her and managing to brush against her shoulder in the process. Just a fleeting instant of touch, enough to be imagined. Enough to tease just a kiss of heat to Nine’s cheeks.

 “You’ll find I notice a good many things about you, Agent,” Saganu said, voice dipping low, corners of his full lips lifting just for an instant before his austere mask returned. He nodded, then stepped away to a dim corner of the offices where a tea service had been laid out.

“I am honored,” she managed to finally reply, her earlier nonchalance fading.

Nine shivered, but not from cold. She watched the Aristocra carefully decant steaming tea into two traditional Chiss-style cups, their metallic black glaze shimmering in the lamplight. Nine wondered vaguely if this was the same blend that Vector would be sharing with Temple, though she doubted it would be served in such finery. Of course Saganu would have such a tasteful nicety—exquisite quality without being ostentatious—in the middle of a secret ops bunker on Hoth. And him serving her tea...that was either intensely chivalrous, or a deliberate power play.

Nine suspected largely the former sprinkled with just a dusting of the latter.

Saganu crossed the room, his steps muted on the carpet. He placed the cups onto the table then lowered himself into the chair directly next to Nine, his left knee nearly resting against her right leg. He did not wait for a reaction, reaching to his neck to unlatch the cloak he wore to denote his position. It slithered with a soft whisper onto the chair behind him. Nine could not help but notice the rich blue of his throat against his crisp white uniform where the neckline parted. Or how, this close, she could tell just how much taller than her he was.

“To business, then?” He looked down at her, expression suddenly giving nothing away.

“Always to business,” Cipher Nine replied, her palms sweating. Something told her to stay on alert—that something important was transpiring here.

Something told her that after what transpired here, matters between Aristocra Saganu and Cipher Nine, former Chiss Secret Police and current bundle of adrenaline and nerves, would change. 


End file.
